Elise in Wonderland, A Kingdom Hearts story
by Rotkappchen
Summary: Elise, a regular video-game junkie falls through her fireplace into her favorite story, Kingdom Hearts, where she joins forces with Sora and friends to try and find a world which will lead her home. WARNING: may contain humor relevant only to myself! XD
1. Chapter 1

Okay. This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please don't flame me! It's centered around Kingdom Hearts, one of my favorite games (and manga) ever. I'm going to try my best to make it good, but I probably won't be able to upload new chapters very often due to some other projects I'm working on at the moment.

So please enjoy! This is something I think every fan of KH dreams of… heh, at least I know I do!

Chapter 1

An overcast sky shadows overhead, and I can feel the first few splatterings of rainfall on my nose and hair. The air is wet and frigid, nearly 46° Fahrenheit, and I shiver in beneath my thick, fleece-interior sweatshirt. This thing was built for mountain terrain, so I wear it all the time out here, even inside the house. Our fireplaces are going pretty much 24-7, and even then it still feels like something from the Alaskan Frontier in my bedroom.

My body still hasn't adjusted to this climate, like my dad said it would several months ago. I guess I'm just not an adaptor. Maybe it's been bred out of me… years and years of people like my dad marrying into my mom's outdoor-junkie family have finally produced the unthinkable—a human being not addicted to adrenaline.

At least, unthinkable on my mom's side, the Jennings. Seriously—practically every single one of her relatives believe that if you haven't broken at least five different bones, (kudos if you break one more then once) by the time your eighteen, then you're some kind of frail, wussy, cookies-and-cream loving nerd who's never going to experience "what life's really all about" and is forever doomed to incessant ridicule at their expense.

I always have to hide my videogames, playstation, x-box, MP3, and whatever else has to do with any other kind of technology except that which has the potential to cause life-threatening havoc whenever one of them visits.

Thankfully my mom inherited a less excitable, more subdued end of their generic spectrum. Sure, she runs three miles every morning and goes back-packing (in bear country, if possible) every weekend but hey, other then that she's just a regular mother and wife. Yessir.

I happened to attain my dad's more relaxed demeanor, for reasons unknown (and in the Jennings case, bewailed) by the rest of our clan. On average, the most exciting activity of my day includes outwitting the sadistic Chihuahua that lives down the road, which I have to pass to get our mail.

A distant rumble of thunder breaks the heavy silence enshrouding the landscape, and I lift my eyes to the horizon, thick with the darkness of many trees. A few drops of water cling to my eyelashes, and I can feel the air stirring around me in anticipation of the coming storm. Our verandah is for the most part covered by a roof, though the part that I sit under has a heavy leak, and proves nothing against the ensuing downpour. With a sigh, I get to my feet and hurry through the sliding-glass door leading inside.

I enter directly into the kitchen, and find my mother chopping up vegetables for dinner. I try not to gag as I catch a sniff on what's brewing—another one of her experiments. Smells like failure.

"Do you need help?" I ask through my teeth, merely venturing the offer out of a fading sense of duty.

"Oh, not really. But thanks, Elise." Her short brown hair—newly cut in a simple bob, after she got sap in it a few weeks back—bounces as she replies. She's complained to my dad that the style makes her cheeks look too round, but I think it fits her personality—it's just that lately I've been too angry to tell her.

Over the past few months I've been shunning both of my parents. Ever since they forced me to move to this place where I can never get warm and have internet service with a speed rivaling that of a dying snail.

With a grumble, I trudge up the stairs—which have wood-rot and termites to spare—to my room, which is located on the second level. My door groans a death-rattle as I push it open and flop facedown on my bed. I lie there in silence, listening to the thunder as it grows closer to our house. I think of dad, driving home from work in his dingy 1985 Brougham, having to make his way through the approaching storm.

A twinge of worry clenches in my stomach.

To pass the time, I pull out one of my favorite games and pop it into my Playstation. The familiar theme song floats to my ears as the start menu fades onto the screen of my television. I hum along with it and log onto my last save point—this has got to be my fifth or sixth time playing through this thing. But I don't care; I'm already a nerd, so what does it matter?

Eventually I forget the world around me—forget the thunder and my previous qualms and simply lose myself in the role-playing fantasy world my pixel-formulated characters inhabit. Time passes all too quickly, and soon I can hear the front door swing open and slam closed against the raging wind. The murmur of my dad's voice greeting my mom in the kitchen brings me out of my trance, and I toss away my controller onto the bed.

I should at least set the table—I owe my parents that much. Even now, I'm beginning to feel a little sheepish about my behavior towards them. But my pride and stubbornness will not give out, and with a sour expression I begin to make my way downstairs to the dining room.

"Hey, Elise!" My dad hails me from the kitchen sink, elbow-deep in sudsy water. "How's it going?"

"Fine," I reply, with a little less frostiness then this morning. Perhaps I have been nursing this grudge for too long…

He notices the change, and gives me a warm smile. Wordlessly I pick up our plates and utensils and begin to set the table, straightening the napkins and cups while I'm at it. Darn—why not throw in a bonus every once and a while?

The meal my mother has prepared looks sad and inedible at its place in the middle of the table—and even she is eying it with uncertain apprehension.

"Don't worry," she assures us. "I've got a backup plan if this doesn't work."

"Define 'doesn't work'," my dad replies, raising his eyebrows and probing the food with a half worried, half amused expression. "Don't tell me we're going to have to wait until Elise suffers cardiac arrest before switching the menu."

"It's perfectly safe," my mom sniffs, somewhat affronted. "…But well, I'm not so sure about… the flavoring…"

"Sure, sure." My dad shakes his head and hides a grin. I can't help but notice how tired he looks—a little more drawn, a little… older. Suddenly, my guilt breaks the floodgate and I'm filled with shame. But still my pride is intact, and I refuse to show signs of folding.

My father says grace, and we begin to eat in silence. Well, we all manage the first bite, and then end up gagging everything back up.

"I think it's time for plan B, hon," my dad rasps, and my mother, one hand over her mouth, nods in agreement. But I can see that their both trying hard not to laugh.

Another day, another bloody war fought against that frickin' Chihuahua. As I make my way back home, I brood smolderingly on ways to extract my revenge. The image of those buggy, wet, grotesque little eyes waft before me, and I furiously add another scheme to my numerous plots fabricated to put this conflict to a… heh… _permanent_ end.

It's Saturday, so I'm free to spend the entire morning, afternoon, and evening doing perfectly, absolutely, nothing at all. In a rare moment of bliss I dance inside our house and slap the mail onto our dining room table.

My mother, just back from her three-mile run, sits at one of the chairs around the table, untying her shoes. She glances up at me and smiles, wiping sweat from her forehead. "Hey, sweetie, do you think you could do me a favor today?" she asks brightly.

"Um… what is it?" I ask, somewhat wary. Hopefully it doesn't involve raking the gutters of rotting slime or scrubbing the outside walls of scum, spider nests, and other gross little insects.

None of the above.

"Could you please clean out the fireplace downstairs? It's really dirty. We haven't thought to use it yet, but who knows? Maybe it'll help keep us warmer."

I freeze, and inwardly moan. Please, please, please… oh… that fireplace has probably been the burial grounds for all sorts of mice, flies and… funnel web spiders. Uuuugghh…

"O-Okay," I reply shakily.

"Great! I'll be out hiking soon, so you'll have the whole house to yourself today. Thanks so much, sweetie!" she ruffles my hair and disappears into her bedroom. With a sigh I deflate, and slowly lumber my way upstairs.

I put off this task for as long as I can, doing all my others chores beforehand as though in slow motion. Sweep… mop… vacuum… bake cookies… dust…

At long last, there is nothing more to stall for. It is time to meet my fate head-on. With a grim face and squirming stomach, I tramp downstairs with a 3 gallon bucket of water and several dozen towels thrown over my shoulder.

The basement's one freaky place. The walls are concrete, the floor is concrete, the pipes are rusty, and the sounds are echoic. It's like a hybrid-mix between a dungeon, a labyrinth, and a black hole. Maybe mom's right in a way—a flame in the fireplace might help brighten up this place some.

One can only hope.

I stand before the object of my imminent agonized labor—which may possibly end with a mad dash for the bathroom. This fireplace is the largest in our house, and probably the most ornate, with a mantle made of black-veined limestone, cut into elegant curves and tresses. The masonry behind the fireplace itself is coated with ash, as is everything around it. I first work at pulling away the smoke screen, and pray that the aged, dented mesh was enough to keep out unwanted critters from making a home inside.

But the screen proves harder to extract then I initially thought, and I end up having to pry it loose with the claw of a hammer. After some effort, I at last pull the irksome mesh free and toss it as far away from me as possible, fearing the unsightly little insects that may be clinging onto the back of it. Accomplishing this, I set to work levering an chic little brush from a rack nearby. In the darkness, I can't see how dirty the firebox is, but I assume, like my mother, that it is undoubtedly filthy. Armed with my little broom, I crouch forwards into the mouth of the beast and lean in to begin raking at the loose soot.

I reach, and reach, and reach… and…

My brush hits nothing. For a moment, my heart leaps in my throat, and I feel myself loosing my balance and pitching forwards. With a strangled scream, I tumble head-first into the firebox, which has not bottom at all. Panic claws at my throat and my heart throbs sharply in my temples, though I hardly have time to think. My hands instinctively stretch out to grab hold of something, anything to stop my plunge, but already I'm too late. The light of the firepit's mouth dies away as I plummet downwards, faster and faster, the wind soaring past my ears in a whistling roar.

Inside, the fireplace is larger then I would have ever imagined—even as I fall, I can feel no wall on either side. With the light of the opening far above long gone, I no longer have anything to measure the speed of my decent, and disorientation sets in like a flock of vultures. The wind is still strong, so I believe I must be traveling fairly fast. But how can I be sure…? The blackness is stifling. There is no light, no color, nothing for me to see no matter where I turn my head.

I try to scream one last time, hoping, praying that someone would come and save me… but who would hear? Mom is miles away, hiking somewhere deep in thick woodland, probably in the process of wrestling a grizzly; dad is at his office somewhere deep in the nearest city, and our closest neighbor—that Chihuahua-pampering sociopath—wouldn't come and help me even if she _did_ happen to hear my cry.

No longer able to tell if my eyes are open or shut, I drift into numbness, a kind of paralyzed slumber that I don't even recognize as such.

And before I know it, I have lost coconsciousness altogether.

--End of Chapter 1

Author's comments:

Thank you for reading! I'll see you at chapter 2!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hey, welcome to Chapter 2! Glad you could make it! Please enjoy this second installment, and again, keep in mind that this is still my first attempt at fan fiction. If it feels a little juvenile, then please just give me some time. I'll get the hang of if eventually…

Chapter 2

Humid, salty air and a darkness perforated by multicolored sparks and flashing spirals. The ground is gritty and moist beneath my hands and legs, which begin to feel heavier with each passing moment. I realize that they are numb—and as I shift my limbs a tingling sensation ripples down each one, making me want to laugh and cry all at once.

As my mind rises into consciousness, I gradually become aware of an echoing roar which grows and recedes in volume, lulling my senses with its hypnotic rhythm. Immediately my thoughts are jolted into focus, and my eyelids fly open with stunned realization.

It's the crash of ocean waves.

I find myself lying on top of my arms, my legs tangled awkwardly and my face pressed against the cool ground in a position that, as soon as I notice it, begins to hurt. A lot.

Even as I attempt to bolt upright, my arms won't support me and I end up in a worse mess then before. Not only are my limbs numb, but their completely limp and useless. Groaning, I submit myself to an agonizing wait until they've returned to their former dexterity.

As I lie still, I take the time to examine where I am. It appears to be some sort of hut, with a low roof made of straw and walls paneled with honey-colored, lightweight wood. There's only a single room, the one I presently occupy, and though the light is dim, it is bright enough for me to see a doorway placed few feet from my head. Inside the doorway is a flight of stairs leading upwards, illuminated fairly well, with a destination that is out of sight.

And the ground beneath me is made up entirely of sand. Cold, dark, slightly damp sand. I am speechless, and find that I can't concentrate my thoughts properly. There's too much to think of, too many questions to ask. My stomach shivers, and immediately I feel my throat constrict as my body prepares to wretch. Clamping my mouth shut, I squeeze my esophagus closed and wait until the nausea fades. After a few moments I am able to move my arms and legs, and slowly stumble to my feet.

It is now that I notice the second door—the cracks outlining its frame like the tendrils of spider's silk. My instinct tells me to take this exit, since it appears to lead outside. Limping, I make my way across the tiny shack and push open the egress with little difficulty—there is no doorknob or lock of any kind.

The wind that greets me is wet and salty, and my hair is blown every which way as I stagger across the sand towards the roaring sea. I appear to be on a beach of sorts, and raise my eyes to gaze upon the clear, teal-hued sky spanning above. I've never seen such a translucent, green color—and for the first time in nearly three months I'm not standing beneath cloud-cover.

The landscape, as I observe, is tropical and lush, with lofty Arecaceae trees and broadleaf evergreen bushes flourishing everywhere my eyes wander. The sand beneath my feet is pale and fine, finer then any I've ever seen before. As I kneel to touch it, I can feel that though it is hot, it's very soft and pleasant, with grains so tiny I have to squint to see them.

But the most magnificent aspect of the scenery is the ocean itself. Sheer, green, and filled with many colorful fish, it froths pure white waves upon the shore, which bubble and then fade with the receding tide. Now that I've grown more accustomed to the sound, the hiss of the breaking surf doesn't seem quite so loud—it's almost soothing.

Though this new realization is lost on my fraying nerves as I begin to fight the overwhelming panic boiling deep inside my chest. My limbs fail me once again, and I collapse onto my knees upon the sun-warmed beach.

Every muscle in my body clenches, and I can feel my throat tightening as desperation turns to tears of bewildered fear. For a while I merely sit, choking and snuffling back the sobs which surge to the surface without my control.

This beach is nowhere near where I live. It doesn't even _look_ familiar. Unable to concentrate on the recent events which have just passed, I block out all other thoughts then those of the present.

_Breathe… breathe… come on, catch your breath… stop crying… you don't have any reason to cry yet… there's nothing and no one here to hurt you, so please get a grip… think… think! _

Rattling myself hard enough eventually leads to a cease in my blubbering, and I after I've wiped my cheeks clean, I set to work by getting to my feet and trying to figure out where I am. From the surrounding landscape, I am obviously in a tropical environment. More then likely an island, and since I can hear the sea on all sides, I judge that it is relatively small.

I glance back at where I came from, and see the tiny little shack with its shabby door—built on the side of a dock, leading to a smaller island a little ways out at sea. Behind the hut is a flowing waterfall, glittering and magnificent, like finest blue crystal. It lies in the shadow of a cliff wall, the chiseled grey rocks wreathed with lush vines, emerald moss, and exotic flowers. And also within the shade of the precipice is an elegant forest of towering Arecaceae palm trees. Their fresh, splayed green leaves quivering in the drifting breeze; and at the very top of each tree is a cluster of large, furry coconuts.

As I stand there gawking, a memory pushes at the very back of my mind, barely out of reach. It's the understanding that I have, in fact, _been here_ before. Or at least, I've seen it somewhere. Maybe in a picture? On the internet? TV? One of my mom's National Geographic magazines?

…I have no idea. All that I can settle on is that the landscape is _indeed_ familiar, despite my earlier judgment. But not only is if familiar, but I'm getting a very uncomfortable sense of déjà vu that refuses to be quelled.

As I wander stiffly through the graceful woodland of swaying palms, feeling the cool sand beneath my feet in the shade of the cliffs and trees—I am struck with how peaceful this island is. Even as my heart pounds with dread, my mind manages to stay collected, and I don't fall into the dumb shock I would have expected. I am able to set aside my fears and sift through the actions I previously underwent, and try to find a reasonable answer. Not to mention a way out.

The more I roam the terrain, the more convinced I become that this place is inhabited by humans. Or at least it was, and very recently. Three boats are tied to the dock, and the ropes are still fresh. I even find a raft several hundred yards down the beach, on the other side of the pier. It's crudely built, and has only one sail made out of a bed sheet, though after close examination I can tell that it is seaworthy nonetheless. I even find a bag of food, still good, and a long coil of rope.

Someone… or _someones_… were trying to escape this island. They were fully supplied for the trip and everything, so… what happened? Where did they go? I can't tell if they were the ones to build the other things on the island, like the dock, the shack, or the enormous windmill located on the other side. But judging from the rudimentary structure of their raft, I could guess that this was not so.

Who were they? Were they trapped here? …If so, then why were there three boats tied to the dock?

Where did they go? Did something _happen_ to them? Did… they _die_?

So many questions and no answers to be found: that's I find the cave. While I'm wandering around the inlet where I discovered the raft, I uncover the mouth to a dark, deep grotto tunneled into the base of the cliff wall. With nowhere else to go, I head inside to explore.

At first it appears to be just a regular cavern. Winding, dark, dripping, spooky. But there are no other side corridors, no other way to go except forwards.

_That's good,_ I think. _This way I definitely won't get lost._

Like I'm not already.

After about five minuets, I reach the end of the tunnel. It's a giant chamber burrowed into the rock, and there's even a hole at the top of the wall to my right, allowing tendrils of sunlight to pour down into the space, soft and consoling.

The cavity is empty, with a floor of firmly packed sand, with the consistency similar to dry clay. I walk with one hand against the smooth stone wall, glancing up at the vines which curl along the ceiling and everywhere else, draping down to the ground with graceful resignation.

That's when I see something strange: it's a picture, drawn onto the wall with white chalk, about two feet up from the floor. The height of a small child, or someone crouching.

I go over and examine the sketch, desperate for any information on the island's previous residents. It is roughly illustrated, and very childlike. From what I can make out, it is of two people—the one on the left is apparently feeding the other some kind of star…

Reeling back, I utter a choked gasp. My hands fly to my heart and throat, and I stumble onto my knees, suddenly drained of all my strength. Why didn't I see it before? How stupid can I get…?

My heart is racing so hard and fast, it feels as though I'm about to suffer a stroke. My head spins.

_I want to go home… home… mom… dad… our rickety old hobo house… even that stupid Chihuahua… _

Okay, maybe not the Chihuahua.

At that moment, right before my eyes a door suddenly appears in an alcove beside the drawing. It opens up swifter then I could ever expect, and before I know it, something begins to drag me towards its gaping exit. Screaming, I twist around and try to pull away, but it's no use—the force is so strong, so incredibly powerful that I'm like a helpless kitten in its wake.

My head turns and I can see inside the door, into the inky, impenetrable blackness beyond. There is no light there, no hope, nothing at all.

In one final attempt of escape my hands fly out and attempt to grip the sides of the doorway; to no avail. And like before, I am hauled kicking and screaming into utter darkness, with no guarantee that I'll survive to see my family ever again.

_Mom, dad… don't worry… I promise I'll come back. I promise! I'll find you, somehow._ My mind spools off random thoughts all at once; thoughts that I don't even remember formulating.

_This isn't the end. I'm going to get through this! I'm going to see you both again, just you wait! Only… please… don't—_

And all of my empty promises end right there.

--End of Chapter 2

Thanks for reading! See you at Chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sorry it took me so long to upload! But here it is at last!! Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Through the darkness comes a splitting ray of light, sweeping across my torso and illuminating the surrounding alleyway.

"Gawrsh, so you think she's still alive…?"

"Yeah, just unconscious. Hey, help me get this trash can off her, okay?"

"Sure thing, uh-yuck!"

I could feel something heavy—and from the dull, echoing clang it made as it moved, metal—being pushed from my chest, and my breathing instantly became easier. Squinting, I peeled my eyes open a little more to see three dark shapes hovering above my face, silhouetted by the glow of an open doorway.

"Here, I'll grab her hands, you grab her feet, Goofy. Ugh… that's not gonna work. I'm… not tall enough… Here, Donald help me pick up her shoulders."

I could feel my body being raised, like a broken puppet, by unseen hands. Someone encircled their arms around my chest.

"IDIOT! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO GRAB A LADY THAT WAY!! IT'S INDECENT!!" Garbles a strangely familiar voice.

"Shut up!! I'm trying my best here!!"

"What if she were to wake up, huh?! How do you think she'd like that?!"

"Get off my case already!!"

From the unnatural swaying movement of our gait, I assumed that my rescuers were being forced to wind around obstructions on the path. For a while there was silence, and I couldn't hear anything except the uneven breathing of my three transporters. Everything inside me screams to struggle, to move on my own. My muscles need it, my mind needs it. But as before, my body is completely out of my control—like a doll. But I can feel myself coming to faster then before, so I know that all I have to do is be patient.

And for me, that's a problem.

"Hey, I think she might be coming around!"

As soon as the words are uttered out loud I'm set down on the ground, which is made of some kind of rough stone, by the feel.

"About time," mutters the distorted voice. "Hey! Wake up!!"

I'm promptly battered on the cheek with something hard and feathery.

"Donald! Be careful, she's a lady! Uh-yuh!"

"Yeah, yeah… HEAL!!"

A glowing blue light sparkles, flaming the inside of my eyelids a vivid red hue. I can feel warmth spread through each one of my limbs, and immediately the numb, deadweight sensation drains away leaving my body feeling perfectly normal. Better then normal, in fact. I feel completely revitalized and then some.

Slowly, I open my eyes again and lift my head to look at my rescuers. What I see causes me to flop back into my former position, and very nearly lose consciousness altogether, it's so bizarre. Not to mention disturbingly recognizable, in an uncanny sense.

As I'd already deduced beforehand, there are indeed three of them standing together. One is a boy, small and slight, about thirteen-to-fourteen years old. He has light brown hair, spiked and poking up at odd angles all around his head. His eyes are wide and pure, pure blue… and he's got some sort of enormous, delicately-hewn key-shaped sword strapped to his back.

And he's the normal-looking one of group.

Positioned closest to me is the loudest member of the party. Covered with feathers white as untainted marble, it's the largest duck I have ever seen in my life. It stands about a foot-and-a-half tall, and has beady black eyes which gaze upon me condescendingly. Its bill is orange, slim, and opens very wide whenever he opens it to speak. His body is fairly plump for a duck, and his feet are flat and unusually large. As my eyes adjust to the light, or lack thereof, I can feel shock flood my mind as I see his wings—which seem to end in what can best be described as a four-fingered hands. Feathery, yes, but hands nonetheless.

It's holding some sort of staff over me, and I can see that this is the source of the shimmering blue light. The lustrous tendrils flow in graceful arcs over my torso and legs, gradually dimming as I regain all of my former energy.

On his left stands the strangest of them all: a tall, lean creature with a pale snout and black fur surrounding its head, neck, and the rest of its body. Its eyes are gigantic orbs of snow-white, with the blackest irises I have ever seen which stare back at me with open curiosity. His ears are long and bell-shaped, and covered with the same thick, pitch-black fur as the rest of his person. A huge shield is buckled to his forearm, and I wonder that he has enough strength in his slim arms to lift it. Large, curved fangs jut from his overhanging upper lip—white like bone, and glistening in the light of nearby streetlamps.

The best way to describe it would to call the creature a very lanky wolf, which stands on two legs, and wears… clothing. Oh gosh…

They all wear strange garb, which is oddly trampled and worn, as though they have been traveling for a long time without much rest. Of them all, the boy appears the most friendly. He grins at me and stoops forward, coming to kneel beside me as I struggle to prop myself up on my elbows.

"Hey, are you feeling better now?" he asks brightly. The duck gives a single, affronted snort and folds its wings across its chest.

"_Of_ _course_ she is," it scoffs. "I _healed_ her, didn't I?"

"There's no need to get all defensive, Donald," the wolf-creature pipes amiably. "We all know that you're the most powerful magician in the royal court!"

"Humph!" the duck glares at me, puffing its feathers and lifting its bill into the air. "Perhaps not _all_ of us. Most people say 'thank you' when their life has just been saved," he grumbles in my direction.

"Um… thank you…" I respond automatically. Addressing the boy now, I pose a question. "J-Just… where am I? And you people…" I narrow my eyes. I already understand who they are, but to not ask would seem strange since they don't understand my situation.

"Well, this place is called Traverse Town. And as for who we are, that there's Donald, and Goofy right beside him, and I'm Sora—HEY!! Are you from another world?" the boy suddenly bursts out, his eyes wild with excitement.

"SORAAA!!" the duck squawks, furious. "YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOUT THAT!!"

"But her clothes… I thought that maybe she came from somewhere else…" The boy, Sora, looks both downcast and mulish at the same time. He turns his attention back at me, ignoring the enraged sputtering which ensues from his fowl-like companion. "So are you? From another world, I mean?"

I hesitate, unsure how to answer. These people can't know where I come from. They can't know that I've already met them, (in a way of speaking) and know every single thing that's going to happen to them during their travels to find Sora's friends and the King. They can't know—they wouldn't understand.

"Yes. Yes… I'm from… another world. I don't know how I ended up here, though…" I'm not sure how to act, so I decide that bewildered apprehension is the right way to go. It seems to work.

"Oh! Maleficent, that bloodthirsty old hag… she's at it again, darn it!" the boy growls, his brows furrowing.

"What?" I ask, still playing the part of the perplexed, uninformed victim.

"Here—come on, we'll explain everything. What did you say your name was?" Sora asks as he pulls my right arm across his shoulders and helps me to my feet. I don't really need the assistance, but I decide that due to my present alias, my reaction of helplessness is necessary.

"My name is… Elise." No last name necessary. And my real one will do fine—it's not like they can google it or something.

With Donald still grumbling behind out backs, the four of us make our way down the darkened streets of Traverse Town. Sora babbles happily at my side, and explains that they were sweeping the city for Heartless when they found me in that alleyway, half-buried by overturned trashcans.

"—It's a lucky thing that we happened on by," he prattles cheerfully. "You could've been killed by those things or something! Whew, that would've been terrible!"

We enter into a different part of town, and I recognize the place as one I've passed many times before. And I know what's coming.

"W-Wait! Sora, there—there's something ahead—Rik—!" I stop myself just in time, and snap my jaw shut in shock that I just spoke out loud. _Oh, no_! Something inside me cries. _Now I'm gonna be found out!_

Sora gives me a look of confusion. "R…Riku? What?"

I turn my face away to hide my uncontrollable blushing. All four of us have stopped walking, and everyone is staring at me with wide, mystified eyes. Except for Donald, who looks blatantly mistrustful.

"H—How do you know about Riku?" Sora demands, still looking startled. "Elise?"

And then, out jumps a band of dark, hideous little creatures with round, grotesque-looking heads and quivering antennae. They swarm towards us, shifting shape and warping from side-to-side as they advance. The sheer volume of their numbers triggers my immediate panic, and I scream a warning to the others.

"Guys! LOOK OUT!!" All eyes turn, and in a moment the three have prepared the onslaught with an expertise game-play can't master in the least. Sora turns and stands protectively in front of me, his keyblade drawn and held before him with both hands like a samurai.

But even as my three companions move into battle, from the shadows of a building across the square springs a new addition to the fight. In half and second, all the Heartless have vanished into curling black smoke.

"Hey Sora, wake up already!"

"Un…!" Sora visibly flinches and stares in unchecked shock. "N… No way!"

A boy stands in the midst of the coiling vapors, smiling smugly as he transforms his black, winged-blade into mere tendrils of the same dark mist as the unfortunate Heartless. His eyes are fastened on Sora, and he grins all the wider at the other boy's visible astonishment.

"It took me forever to find you, you know," he laughs.

Sora recovers in a heartbeat. "RIKU!! Is it really you, pal?"

Riku just grins. But deep in my gut, I can feel my stomach turn.

--End of Chapter 3

Thank you for reading! See you at Chapter 4!


	4. Chapter 4

Here it is: chapter 4! Enjoy!!

Chapter 4

I stare in shock at the boy standing before me, feeling the acid churn my stomach as I acknowledge what's soon to come.

The beginning of this nightmare is about to blast me head-on.

Riku, like my three other companions, is slightly different then what I would have expected. He's about my height—being like, what, fifteen years old?—with shoulder-length silver hair and sun-tanned skin. His clothes are even more mussed then the others; and his face looks weary, as though he hasn't slept a decent seven hours in the past few weeks.

Sora stands straight and slightly rigid, staring at his friend with too-wide eyes and an unhinged jaw. Then, before anyone can react, he shouts with laughter and bounds forwards to wrap Riku in a brotherly embrace.

"Oh man, it _is_ you, Riku! For real!!" he squeezes the older boy's cheeks and sniffs away a tear. I see Donald roll his eyes and fold his wings over his chest; though Goofy merely gazes into space with an oblivious smile on his lips, completely disconnected from the present.

"Hey, cut that out!" Riku steps back and gives his head a brisk shake. Sora continues to bounce on his toes, smiling ecstatically while glancing around as though for something in particular—or some_one_.

"Um, hey Riku… where's Kairi? Didn't she come with you?"

"Oh… you mean… she's not with you?" Something flashes across Riku's face for half a second and then disappears before anyone can take note. But I know what it was—a mixture of anger and reproach, aimed directly at his best friend. "…Well, don't worry about it. I'm sure she's safe somewhere, we'll find her soon enough."

"Oh." The look that suddenly clouds Sora's face made my throat constrict, it's was so pitiful. His head hangs, and he looked sadly at the cobble-stoned street. A gas lamp flickers and the shadows around us grow closer, creeping from the impending alleyways and alcoves which riddle the buildings on either side of us.

"Hey, don't look so brokenhearted. I'll bet Kairi's looking for us right now—way out there," Riku says reassuringly, tilting his head to gaze up at the starlit heavens. "Just leave everything to me. I'll… I'll get us all back together again."

It's like watching everything come to life from my TV monitor. I can't believe it—this is all happening, regardless of how I feel about it. This world isn't going to wait for me to be prepared—it's just going to keep moving, time will pass in its set course whether I want it to or not. It's like my life back home, except I felt more trapped; like I'm in some kind of concrete cage.

Out of nowhere, a heartless suddenly leaps through the air, hissing softly as it descends upon Riku's shoulder. Its twisted body outstretches as it goes straight for his throat. Almost too fast for my eyes to track, Sora jumps forwards, sliding the keyblade from his back and slashing the thing in mid-air.

Riku jerks back, surprised and bewildered. I see his teeth clench as he catches sight of the sword, and his eyes turn darkly cautious.

"Uh… leave it to _who_?" the younger boy laughs, swinging the sword lightheartedly in front of him. "I'm not useless, you know… I've learned a few things since you and Kairi last saw me!!"

Goofy steps forwards and placed a hand—or maybe the word _paw_ would be more appropriate—on Sora's shoulder. He closes his eyes and smiled blissfully.

"Sora here's the keyblade master!" he announces proudly, rubbing his furry face against the boy's hair affectionately.

"Who would've thought…?" Donald says, puffing up and smiling for the first time since I've met him.

Riku merely stares in silence, his lips tight and his eyes glowering.

"And you can come with us!! There's plenty of room—we can search for Kairi together!" Sora exclaims, grinning so hard that his eyes crinkle shut.

"HEY, YOU CAN'T JUST GO AND DO THINGS ON YOUR OWN LIKE THAT!!" Donald explodes, jumping up and flapping his wings in Sora's face.

"But he's my friend! We've gotta bring him along, right?" Sora cries, looking slightly confused and offended. "Right, Riku? You're coming, aren't y—"

Only I had seen Riku make his disappearance: melding into the shadows and vanishing without a sound. Now Sora stares around wildly, searching desperately for any sign of his friend. Breaking away from Donald's grasp, he runs forwards and peers into the shadows of the surrounding buildings, looking slightly hurt and hopelessly bewildered.

"What…? Where's he go? Riku! RIKU!!"

"He just left?! Man, what a loser," Donald growls.

"Well gawrsh, you're the one who chased him away!" Goofy chides, looking with disapproval upon his feisty, feathered friend.

Head hung low, Sora makes his way back to his two friends. Seeing him so distressed tugs at my heart, though I can only purse my lips and glare up at one of the high rooftops, the one I know Riku stands atop with that wretched hag, Maleficent.

And oddly, it's as though I can feel us lock gazes. Even though it's very dark and I can hardly even see—I can feel my eyes boring into those of Riku. I wanted him to know that _I_ know—that he can't fool me. Not by a long shot.

"Hey, it's okay Sora!" Goofy encourages brightly. "We'll find him again. Don't worry! Uh-yuck!"

"Yeah, you're right," Sora sighs, forcing a smile upon his downcast features. "He's big and strong. Riku can take of himself, so he'll be fine. And… I'm sure we'll meet up again, someday soon." He seems to brighten up immediately, and turns his attention towards me. I am slightly taken aback, since for the past five minuets it's been as though I don't even exist.

"Hey Elise, how did you know Riku was going to be here anyway? Do you know him or something?" the boy asks, looking genuinely curious, without a trace of suspicion.

"Um…" What do I say? "Well, I don't know him exactly…"

"Gawrsh, maybe she's some sort of clairvoyant," muses Goofy, looking at me inquisitively. "Can ya see the future or something?"

"Oh! You're a psychic?" Sora gasps, looking profoundly impressed. Donald looks interested though not fully convinced.

I begin to realize that this is the perfect cover. If these guys believe that I'm some kind of seer, then not only will that erase any probing questions about my further actions, but it will also place me significant role in their quest. I'll be able to search for a way home. So why not go for it?

"Y-Yes, I… I'm something like that," I admit quietly, observing the ground with downcast eyes.

"Prove it," Donald quips, clearly unmoved. "Prove that's what you are."

I sigh and close my eyes. Oh, gosh… this is gonna be rough… what should I use as an example…? "You three are looking for something, right? A person besides Kairi. Donald and Goofy are searching for their King, right? King Mickey. He's gone missing, and left you a note… so you're gleaming different worlds to try and find him." But I take it a step further. "…He even told you to find and protect the Key, the person essential to our survival. He told you to stick with that person no matter what." I point to Sora. "That's him, isn't it? The Key."

That did it. All three stare at me with open mouths, utterly stunned. After a moment, Sora manages to speak.

"W-Wow… that's amazing. Totally amazing." He looks at his two friends with eyes shining with unabashed excitement. "We could bring her with us! She could help out a lot, I'll bet!" he was so excited, he was very nearly bouncing up and down.

Even Donald looked impressed. Not just impressed—blown away. Seeing that made me feel the smallest bit guilty.

"Yeah…" he said after a moment of sizing me up. "What do you say, Goofy?"

"Uh-yuh." Goofy grinned delightedly at me. "I think it's a good idea!"

"Awesome!!" running to my side, Sora grabs my arm and slings it back over his shoulders. "Come on, we've gotta get you to Cid so he can fix you up before we leave!" he beams at me angelically. "This is going to be great!"

I think of Cid and the others, and inwardly gulp down a spell of panic. There are things in this world that are going to take some getting used to.

--End of Chapter 4

Thanks for reading! See you at Chapter 5!


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the next chapter

Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter 5

"So… you're a seer, eh?" Cid growls as he leans across the table to squint into my face. "…Never heard that one before. You must be pretty one-of-a-kind to—DANG IT, YUFFIE!! SHUT THAT CRAP DOWN BEFORE I TOSS IT DOWN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL!!—be able to do that kind of hocus pocus."

The way he switches subject focus and temper without missing a beat never fails to make me jump out of my skin. From the other side of the room, Yuffie grudgingly turns the volume of her blaring techno music down a few notches. She makes a face at Cid's back and sticks out her tongue in defiance. I quickly look away, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Around the table also sits Squall and Aerith, both looking very grim and somewhat foreboding. Sora is seated beside me, beaming in every direction as the others take in his proud retelling of past events.

Donald and Goofy are out repairing some damages to their Gummi Ship, and I am beginning to miss Goofy's warmly furry presence. But Sora's bright enthusiasm is a great comfort, as he explains my supposed "power" and the importance I could attest to this mission. I'm unduly relieved that I don't have to speak for myself in the conversation, since it already feels like I've lied enough for one day. The guilt I experience for tricking these people is beginning to feel somewhat less burdensome, and I continue to remind myself that this probably is just a dream—that it doesn't matter because in a few minuets I'll wake up and leave it all behind me.

After a few seconds of silence, Aerith raises her head and speaks aloud in a calm, reflective voice. "I think it's a very good idea to have Elise come along with you, Sora—she could prove vital in finding the King and your friends. But is that really what she wants?" Aerith's soulful gaze probes mine, and I almost look away in embarrassment at the sudden intensity of eyes concentrating on me from around the table.

"Uh… I… I want to go," I gulp nervously as my face blushes scarlet. "…I want to find my way back home."

"Alright, then." She appears satisfied, and leans back in her chair with resignation.

"Can I ask a question?" Squall suddenly asks from his place at the farthest end of the table.

He's been the quietest during our discussion, and the one I've been avoiding most. He's so much prettier then when displayed with pixels. Ah…! I feel my stomach drop to my toes in an instant, and barely manage to jerk my head in reply.

"How long have you been able to "see" things? Is this some psychic ability you've had from birth?"

Choices, choices. Knowing I have to give an answer, I simply nod.

Squall continues on. "Then you must have been able to foresee the destruction of your world by the Heartless, correct?"

Uh-oh. Darn. Snagged… I have seconds to formulate an answer, and with everyone watching expectantly, the pressure building in my head reaches its peak.

"Um… well… actually, I didn't." There's no point in lying in this case—I don't want to spin a web that'll only tangle me up later. "I'm not sure why… it's not like I _choose_ the things that I want to see. They kind of… come to me on their own."

It wasn't exactly a lie…

"Well, that makes sense!" Yuffie pipes from across the room, hopping down from where she'd been perched on the front counter of Cid's shop. "I mean, I've never met a psychic before, but that does make a lot of sense. Right, Cid?" she stands beside the older man, hands on her hips, looking to him for support.

"Uh… I suppose so…" he rumbles, scratching his hair with one hand. "…I guess I wouldn't be one to judge."

Aerith shrugs. "It doesn't matter. She'll obviously be of some help on the quest, and every little bit counts."

"Yeah!!" Sora sits up quickly, nearly knocking his chair backwards. He turns to me with an enormous smile and wraps one arm around my shoulders. "We're sure to find Riku and Kairi with your help!"

"Right, then. You guys get some sleep now, so you can set off bright and early tomorrow morning," Cid directs as he stands to fill up his coffee mug for the third time tonight. "…Got that?"

"Yes _sir_!" Sora grins, saluting with his right hand before dragging me out of the room and up a flight of shadowy stairs. "You can sleep here for the night," he says, pushing open a door to reveal a bedroom decked in feminine décor. "I think this is Yuffie and Aerith's room… you can share it with them!"

"Th-Thanks," I stutter, taking a shy, reluctant step into the specious chamber. "Um, where are you and your friends going to sleep?" I ask, turning to face Sora as he beams at me from the doorway.

"Oh, probably in Leon's room or something," he blithely replies.

"Ah." I nod and take another timid glance at my surroundings. "Are you sure this is where I'm supposed to stay…?"

"Yes, it _is_." Yuffie suddenly appears behind Sora, pushing him aside and bounding into the room beside me. "See ya later!" she calls, slamming the door shut in the younger boy's face.

"Oh, thanks again Sora!" I cry, and can hear his bright response as he treads back down the hallway.

Next to me, Yuffie immediately grabs my hand and hauls me over to the closet, babbling cheerful all the while. "…You know, we've really got to get you out of these clothes… they're so _gross_! Ugh!" she thrusts open the sliding closet doors with a thunderous BANG!; and begins to rummage through the river of clothing hanging down like a colorful waterfall from the overhanging rail. "—Let's see if we have anything that'll fit you in here…"

_Good luck with that,_ I think to myself as I take brief stock of her small, slender build. I'm shocked when she withdraws something that actually appears as though it will fit over my head without bursting its seams.

"Bingo!" she cries. "Here, try it on! …Don't worry, I won't look," she adds with a roll of her eyes at my apparent hesitation.

"O-Okay." I quickly yank off my jeans and sweatshirt—and she _is_ right, they're filthy with grime—and obediently pull on what she's handed to me. It's like a giant nightshirt, all white and frilly and just a tad bit scratchy. But still, it's something other then my soiled clothing—or my underwear—that I can sleep in.

A soft knock on the door later, and the next thing I know Aerith walks in with a tray of warm noodles and spicy tea. It's only when I catch scent of the food that I realize how ravenous I am—the last thing I ate was breakfast, so very long ago.

"Here, I thought you might be hungry," she says with a smile.

"Yes, thank you," I say, feeling utterly grateful as I take a bite of the soft, succulent ramen and sip the herbal tea.

"Man, just check out this get-up!" Yuffie scoffs in disbelief as she holds up my clothes by the very tips of her fingers, as though to touch them with as little of her skin as possible. "It's hilarious!"

"Yuffie!" Aerith chides, giving the girl a warning look. To me she says kindly, "You can take the extra bunk over there, Elise. I hope it's comfortable enough."

"Thank you so much," I say reverently, and watch as Yuffie disgustedly lugs my clothing out the bedroom door. "Where are you taking them?" I ask, feeling sudden worry. I don't want them burned or thrown away—I'm hanging onto the hope that I'll need them again someday.

"To the cleaners! They're filthy!" She says, wrinkling her nose in revulsion.

"Oh… thank you," I respond meekly.

"Yeah, sure," she sighs, waving off my gratitude with a posh flutter of her hand.

But to myself I can't help but smile.

--End of Chapter 5

Thank you so much for reading! See you in the next installment!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey! Sorry it took so long for me to upload. I decided to take a break over the summer and work on some other projects, and the break kinda extended a little longer then I'd wanted…

But here it is! Chapter 6! Please enjoy!!

Chapter 6

Space whirls past my window in a mass of spectral grey-and-black hues. Stars twinkle far in the distance, faint and unmoving as my companions and I race along through the murky cosmos in our Gummi Ship.

Sora and Goofy are playing a game similar to Egyptian War on the floor beside a large electric radiator, laughing and shouting insults to one another as they place down and slap viciously at the cards sprawled messily on the ground between them. Goofy has offered more than once for me and Donald to join—but I've given the excuse that I'm having a severe headache—which is true—and the latter gave an answer consisting of nothing but stony silence.

Donald pilots the craft from up front, jerking and twisting the steering mechanisms as though he's wrangling Goofy's throat—the strange dog-man's loud, hiccupping laughter appears to be grinding on our feathered friend's nervous system, as every once and a while I'll see the duck's eyelid twitch spasmodically for several seconds before quieting down—and I know that this is hardly the time to bring up the subject of our destination.

Because problem is, for reasons no one can understand, we can't find it.

"Just a minor problem with our equipment," Donald had assured us stubbornly when he'd broken the news to us several hours earlier. "It's gotta be here somewhere."

The fowl just didn't want to admit defeat. What an obstinate little white puff ball he was. More than thrice I'd been tempted to pick him up and squeeze him—just to see if he was as soft and squishy as he looked. "Don't even think about it, Woman!" he'd garbled at me irately the first time the thought had sprung to mind. "Handling the duck is completely OFF LIMITS!!"

"Okay, okay…" I'd mumbled in defeat, slumping down in my chair to sulk.

But that was all behind us now. Not because time heals all wounds, but because there were other problems to nit-pick about. …Like actually finding somewhere to land the ship, so-to-speak.

"DARNIT!" Our fuming pilot yelled, banging his feathered fists onto the Gummi Ship's control panel. Several important-looking buttons blinked a fiery red.

"What's wrong?" Sora asked as he and Goofy had both paused mid-slap to stare at their distraught companion. "Still can't find it?"

Donald refused to answer. Instead he muttered distortedly under his breath and stomped away from the pilot seat to get a glass of water. We all watched as he left the room—nobody said a word, because silence seemed crucial—and breathed a sigh of relief when he'd gone.

"A-hyuck! Donald's sure in a bad mood over this," Goofy murmured, laying his hands quietly in his lap. "I just don't understand it! Why isn't the World where it should be…?"

We all mused on this for a moment before Sora's face lit with a brilliant idea.

"HEEY!!" he yelled, jumping ecstatically to his feet. "Elise, _you_ could do it, right? YOU could find the World for us! Y'know, with your psychic powers!"

Uh-oh. Baaaad thing headed my way.

Donald's head poked in through the doorway, and in a matter of seconds everybody on the ship was staring holes into my face, waiting for an answer. I had no choice but to tell them I couldn't do it.

"W-Well, I guess I could try…"

Pathetic.

Utterly.

Everybody followed me as I ambled over—quite un-heroically, by my guess—to the piloting chair. I sat down. Tentatively fingered the controls.

"This one helps you steer," Goofy said, pointing to the main wheel. "…And that pedal down there is the accelerator."

Just like driving a car. Too bad I never got around to getting my license—or a permit. Wheeeeeee….

I stared at the controls, as though just looking at them would give me some clue as to what my next move would be. Then…

_"Grab the wheel."_

A voice…? Not belonging to anybody in the ship, obviously. It was in NO WAY familiar to my eardrums.

I grabbed the wheel.

_"Turn left by 20 degrees and accelerate. Just a little."_

Uh… okay……

I checked the coordinates and did as I was told. I could think about how creepy it was to have a disembodied voice in my head telling me what to do when we were safe on dry ground.

I turned the ship… tapped the accelerator… and shot off through space like a cockroach in the first rays of sunlight. It was fascinating. And horrifying.

And I could tell that my companions agreed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

You get the picture. The only reason I wasn't joining in on their terror-spawned chorus was because I'd been thrust flat against the chair, and the force of moving forwards so quickly was doing serious complications on my windpipe.

Ouch.

"WE'RE DOOMED!! DOOMED, I SAAAAY!!" Donald yelled as he clung to the back of my seat for support.

"De-accelerate, Elise! PLEASE!!" Sora shouted from where he lay on his back a few meters behind me.

_"Not yet,"_ something inside me said.

_Then when?_ I asked. _When?!_

_"Now."_

Gotchya. I stomped on the brake, and was it just my imagination or did something crunch beneath my foot…?

Silence. Then pitiful groaning filled the room.

"I-Is everybody alright?" I asked, trembling as I swiveled around to face my friends. They were all flopped down on the floor in various stages of shock and relief. As they got to their feet, Donald pointed an accusing finger in my direction as he tottered in place like a drunken squirrel.

"You… are NEVER… driving this thing again," was all he said.

Beside me, Goofy stumbled against the Gummi Ship's windshield, and gave a delighted shout.

"Hey! Everyone! A-yuk!"

"What is it?" Sora asked dreamily from where he and Donald leaned against each other for support.

"The World!! Elise _found_ it!!" Goofy said, grinning as he pressed his bulbous black nose onto the glass, smudging it with a thin layer of fog.

R-Really? I did?

"FOR REAL?" the other two yelled in unison.

As everybody congratulated me, I couldn't help but feel like a million bucks. But then the thought returned.

Who was that voice…? Why had they helped me?

"I'll land the ship, and then we can see what went wrong with our locating gear," Donald said as he obligingly took over the pilot's chair, his mood improved ten fold despite the fact that he was bruised, and his feathers were in disarray.

"Yeah. That was too weird," Sora mumbled as the two of us waddled over to sit down on the floor next to the radiator. Goofy joined us momentarily, and for a few seconds the three of us sat in silence.

Then, "Hey, how about a game of Slapjack?" I asked.

"Sure," they replied.

And so it began.

End of Chapter 6

Thanks for reading!! See you at the next installment!! (Which will be posted ASAP)


	7. Interlude

For so long I have been waiting

In this land without a sun

The wind is dry and failing

There is no light to the paths I tread

The sky is dark—I drift in space

Stars are distant

Planets exit nowhere to my eyes

There is only the dying twinkle

Of what I used to be

And what this place was once

It is all gone now

I don't know where…

Where did it all vanish too?

Why am I here

All alone

Without anyone else

Beside me?

I'm so lonely…

There is nothing but black

And the interstellar rays

Which soar so far away

Cast warmth too cold

For my existence to feel

I've been waiting for years

Centuries

A millennia

Silent and isolated

Keeping vigil in the hopes

That someone would pass by

And now…

…That wait is finally over


	8. Chapter 8

Hey! Here it is, Chapter 8! Enjoy!!

Chapter 8

We all knew something is wrong the moment we break through the World's cloud cover. All of us are squished against the front windshield, our hands and noses pressed on the glass pane. And in unison, every single one of us draws a sharp breath.

What meets our eyes is an endless sprawl of cracked, barren earth. It looks a lot like those pictures I saw on TV and in textbooks—pictures of Mars taken by little Rover robots. Except this scene is a lot less pretty then that.

The ground is so dull of a brown, it's nearly grey—and it's perfectly flat. No indentations, no sloping hillocks or mountain peaks anywhere to be seen—just dry, level planes as far as the eye can see.

"Wh-What happened here?" I gasp, unable to tear my eyes away from the bleak landscape growing nearer and nearer beneath our Gummi Ship.

"Maleficent," Donald replies grimly, and the other two nod in silent assent. No one says a word more—it is too solemn a moment for something like talking. I can't believe my eyes—it's too horrible.

It doesn't take long for us to reach the ground. And when we do, Donald warns us not to go outside right away. Quickly he conjures up a spell and bubbles—filled with oxygen—engulf each one of our heads.

"N-Neat," Sora says, poking the outside of the orb with his finger. It jiggles at his touch.

"There's enough air to last us about half-an-hour, _if_ you're careful," Donald garbles sternly—though his words feel empty, it's obvious that he's too disheartened to be very threatening at the moment.

We all hesitate at the door, no one wanting to do the honors until Goofy finally reaches out and punches the button which sends the doors folding open on either side.

It is strange. I'm sure what to expect as I step out onto the parched, colorless earth—this certainly wasn't in the gameplay, if I remembered correctly. The World looks so forlorn, so dismal. No trees, or plants, or houses, or birds—just flat, wide planes of nothingness that stretch on forever.

After a moment of complete silence, Goofy speaks up at last. "Gawrsh," he sighs. "So _this_ is why it we couldn't find it."

"Why?" I ask, feeling like I have bricks mortared to the walls of my stomach.

"Because all the life in this world is gone," Donald says quietly. "It was drained, then thrown out of orbit—technically, it doesn't even exist anymore. What we're seeing now is its shell—like a corpse."

His words sadden all of us, and the silence lapses on, unbroken as the meaning of what has happened to this place churns deep in our hearts. As I glance over at Sora, I can see from the hanging of his head and the dejected slump of his shoulders that this is injuring him. His hope is gone.

I reach out and put my arm around him.

_It's okay,_ I think, even though I know that it isn't. No _way_ is it okay. What a stupid thing to think at a moment like this.

"Come on," Donald finally says, turning around and heading back towards the ship. "There's nothing left to save here. We might as well go."

Goofy turns to follow, but neither Sora nor I budge. "Come on, you guys," the gangly dog-man says, pausing when he realizes that we aren't coming. "Donald's right. There's no point in staying any longer…"

"_Yes, there is."_

That voice again. Inside my head. Talking to me. Am I going insane…?

"_Please, you must help me. _

_I've been waiting so long."_

How? How can we help?

"_Come forwards. A little farther."_

I feel tingly with fear and excitement. Fear because I'm headed deep into the unknown…… and I have no idea how excitement got mixed up in there. Whatever.

"Y-You guys, wait for a second, okay?" I call as I begin to run ahead. I can hear them shouting after me to stop, but I know I can't. Someone needs help. But what if it's someone we can't trust? What if they're evil…?

My legs pumping hard, I race across the barren ground; my breathing becoming hard and each intake of air causing a sharp pang in my lungs. I've never been one for running… I get winded easily. Something my mother said once floats randomly through my mind: "You need to prepare for everything when you've got the time—because when your skills are suddenly called for in life, you won't always be afforded the luxury of being forewarned."

_Man, I miss mom. I wish I could just see her and dad again… I wish this would all be over and I could just go home. _

"_S-Stop! Here I am!"_

_Where? _I ask.

"_You're right on top of me."_ The voice sounds exhausted, hardly even relieved to have been rescued. _"Literally."_

Oops. I stumble back a few steps and stare at the ground, but see nothing special. Just cracks, dry dirt, empty space. What the…?

"_You've got to dig first…"_ the voice instructs.

Feeling like a complete idiot, I fall to my knees and begin to turn up soil like a machine. It's difficult work: the earth is so parched that it makes my fingers turn red, and bleed. But I keep at it. Steadily. And before long, the others arrive to witness my (apparent??) spiral into insanity.

"E-Elise, what on _earth_ are you doing?" Sora pants, hands on his knees, bent over as he catches his breath.

"I'm with the kid. What exactly is going on here?" Donald huffs, the last one to turn up. I can tell from his tone that he's none-to-happy. Well, take a number and get in line, you distorted ball of feathery fluff.

"Uh-yuk," Goofy says quietly, getting down beside me on the ground. "Is it your psychic powers, Elise?"

"_Tell him yes."_

"Uh… kinda…" I mumble, tossing aside a particularly large chunk of rock. Without another word, Goofy begins to dig as well, and is quickly followed by Sora. Eventually, (albeit rather reluctantly) Donald joins in too.

And so, all together we till the ground, very relieved no one else is around to see. I'm not the only one who feels deranged by this behavior.

After a few minutes pass—long enough for me to begin to feel that we wouldn't find anything, and this had all been some horrible practical joke—Sora's hand hit something small and metallic. We all jumped to unearth it, and within seconds it's free.

"What… is… _this_?" Sora asks, staring at the thing in his hands with dumbfounded confusement. No one answers, because the thing is, _we_ don't know either. It's just a gold slab, about 12 cm by 8cm, with a small keyhole in the top right-hand corner. And all of a sudden, I understand.

"Your keyblade," I tell him softly. "Use your keyblade."

"But it's too big! The hole's way too small," he protests, looking even more bewildered then before.

"Just try it," Donald advises, siding with me for once. I'm grateful that he's giving me the benefit of the doubt, and would have thanked him, but the situation is moving too fast. As Sora gets to his feet and draws the keyblade from its sheath on his back, I reach out and take the gold slab to hold it steady for him. He aims the blade directly at the hole, and for a moment, nothing happens, and my heart sinks.

Then, with a sudden blazing flash, the slab suddenly explodes from my hands into a sparkly cloud of pinks and whites. As we all stumble backwards in surprise, the cloud begins to swirl, faster and faster, until its spinning like a wound top.

In the tinkling fog, I can see what appear to be stars—thousands of them—winking and twirling in orbit, all gathered together in strange formations and whizzing by so fast I can hardly catch sight of them.

It's the single most fascinating thing I've ever seen.

"G-Gawrsh," Goofy whispers.

"Cool!" Sora cries.

Poor Donald can only splutter, and I'm right there with him.

Before our very eyes, the cloud begins to morph as it spins—like wet clay in a potter's hands—growing first taller, then wider, then shrinking to the size of a grape, now as large as a small car. It's so mesmerizing I can't look away.

After a moment or so, it shrinks and glows brighter, brighter—bright as the sun!—and we're all forced to look away as the intensity of the rays pierce the air for miles in all directions. I throw myself onto the ground and press my face into my arms, trying to escape the scorching luminosity.

And then it ends. I can tell that the light is gone, and slowly—gingerly—I lift my head.

The first thing I see is my friends. They're all, like me, lying on the ground, with their faces buried out of sight. Hesitantly, I can see Sora peek out over his hands to see if it's safe. He sees me, and I give him a shaky smile of—what I hope is—reassurance.

But we're not alone. Immediately, I can sense that. Something has changed here—something's different.

"I've been waiting a long time for you to come here," says a voice from behind me. I recognize it to be the same one that spoke to me earlier. Eyes widening with alarm, I whirl around to see who it could be.

All of my previous doubts and fears are reborn in that very second—what if it's someone bad? What if they want to kill us, and used _me_ to achieve those means? What if _I'm_ the reason we're all killed? Or captured?

Of all the things I was imagining to see as I scrambled to face that voice from my head, what met my eyes next was something I wasn't prepared—in any way—to see. Of all the things to fix my eyes on at that moment, this was the very, _very_ last one I'd ever have expected.

Because what I saw sitting there was in no way human.

--End of Chapter 8

Thanks for reading! I'll upload again ASAP!


	9. Chapter 9

At long last… the ninth installment! Sorry for the wait… this is waaay overdue!

Chapter 9

It's white.

It's fluffy.

It's fat.

It's rivaling Donald in the most-likely-to-get-huggled-to-death division.

What sits in front of us is none other than a large, soft, snowy-furred rabbit with enormous bell-ears and a pink, wiggling nose.

It is by far the most ADORABLE thing I've ever seen in my life.

The bunny shifts its portly body nervously from foot-to-foot as we continue to stare at it in jaw-dropped amazement. Its warm brown eyes twitch between our faces, looking from one person to another, waiting for someone to say something.

Turns out, it's me.

"Oh… my… GOSH!!" I scramble to my feet and take a few steps towards it. The rabbit doesn't move away (astonishingly) and I crouch down and hold out my arms. Right now, all I want to do is squeeze it.

"W…Wait, Elise!" Sora yelps, lurching to his feet. "Don't touch it!"

"Yeah! It could be dangerous!" Donald adds, waddling over as fast as he can manage.

"Uh-yuk," Goody says, still dazed.

I ignore them and watch as the rabbit hops gracefully over to me and leaps into my arms. Its fur is thick, downy, and warm against my skin—but its body is so heavy, I almost gasp. Twenty pounds, at _least_…

But it's not so bad, so I straighten and stand there, stroking it and cradling it against my chest as the others come to gather around me, eying the rabbit in my arms as though it's a crate of gunpowder, just waiting to explode.

"It's okay, you guys," I tell them as I fondle the bunny's ears. "He's harmless."

"B-But how do you _know_?" Donald splutters, gripping his staff with shaking hands. …Or wings. Whichever.

"She's right," the rabbit in my arms says, addressing all of us. "I am a friend, sent by King Mickey."

"The… The KING?!" Sora gasps, leaning forwards to get a closer look at the rabbit. "S-Seriously?"

"Yes. He said that he had two of his closest friends searching for the Key, and that by the time I met up with them, they would have acquired him and another… special member." At this he looks up pointedly at me.

"Gawrsh," whispers Goofy.

"And what exactly does the King want you to do?" Donald asks, still a little suspicious.

The rabbit nestles deeper into my arms. "I'm to guard and advise the one among you who has powers of the clairvoyant. In other words, Elise."

I nearly let his fat little body drop to the ground. "Uh, _me_?" I gasp, feeling my cheeks flush red with embarrassment. "Wait a minute here—"

"Hey, cool!" Sora interrupts, looking pleased.

"Well, in that case…" Donald chimes in, looking uncomfortable, but unopposed nonetheless. "…I suppose it's alright… if you're sent by King Mickey and all…"

Goofy grins and gives the rabbit a stroke. "Uh-yuk! It's so soft!"

"Ummm, I'm not so sure this… well…" I don't know why I feel hesitant about this. Maybe it's that tidal wave of guilt that's swelling up in my throat…?

The rabbit looks up at me with its soft brown eyes and I feel my heart melting. "Don't worry," it says, "I'm only here to help. There's no reason to feel uneasy."

"S-Sure," I splutter, feeling somewhat memorized by the way it talks, moving its tiny lips ever so slightly with its words. "Okay, I'm fine with that…"

Donald looks nervously around at our surroundings, and then at the creature cradled in my arms. "Well, we'd better get back to the ship. I don't like this place… it feels…"

"…Unsafe?" Sora offers, turning his head to gaze at the flat earth spreading in endlessness around us. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Let's get out of here. Now that we've found what we needed," he smiles at the rabbit and me with satisfaction. "…We probably shouldn't stick around."

As we make our way back to the ship, I hang back from the others a bit and whisper into the rabbit's ear.

"What happened here?" I ask.

"It was a world once. _My_ world. But… it was destroyed, long, long ago."

"What was it like?" I ask in awe, staring at the emptiness of the landscape. There weren't words to describe how desolate it appeared: no hillocks, no impressions of sloping of any kind. Just level, barren earth as far as the eyes could see. It's almost impossible to imagine there was ever anything here that remotely resembled a world.

"Oh, it was very beautiful at one time, believe me. There were plants, and animals, and people… you know," the rabbit almost seemed to smile sadly, if that were possible. "…You're not the first girl to come here from another world."

I jump, my eyes flying wide open. I'm… not… the…

Oh, my gosh.

_Alice_.

I'm such an idiot for not making the connection beforehand. This place, this horrible inhospitable place…

This was once Wonderland, wasn't it?

I feel my knees shaking, and I stop dead in my tracks. I hardly even realize that I'm squeezing the rabbit too tightly until it gives a soft squeak of alarm.

My friends call out to me from up ahead and come running back to see what's the matter, but I find it impossible to think straight. I start to cry.

It's almost too much. Too much…

Alice.

One of my favorite storybook characters of all time. One of my favorite _stories_ of all time. It was the first book I ever read by myself, and loved.

They… all disappeared? They're all gone?

Gone?

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sora is suddenly at my side, and places his hand on my shoulder. He stares in anxious confusion at my tears and asks, "Did it say something that upset you?"

I know he means the rabbit. Sobbing, I shake my head, feeling so stupid for crying like this, but unable to make myself stop.

Goofy comes beside me and rubs my back in an attempt to comfort me. He, Donald, and Sora all share worried looks, at loss at how to console my grief. Silently, Goofy pulls me into a hug, and I bury my face into his chest. It feels so good… I've forgotten how much it can help to just feel someone's arms around you.

Not knowing what else to say, he simply murmurs, "Gawrsh, it's alright, Elise. You don't have to cry… it's all gonna be fine, you'll see. It's all gonna be fine. Uh-yuk."

I nod, and through my sobs, I can feel the warm wetness of the rabbit's tongue on my arm. Even Donald tries to help by standing next to me, lending me the reassurance of his presence.

Goofy's right. It's all going to be okay.

I have friends. I am loved.

I may be babyish and self-centered, but I am loved.

And because of that, I know that I have the strength to find my way home.

But first, I have something I need to do. There are other worlds out there, and they all are in danger. If we don't find the King, then they will end up just like this one. I can't let that happen. I have to do something to help. And maybe… maybe I can do just that. I've played this game so many times, I probably know everything there _is_ to know about it.

I'm not in this for myself anymore. I have a responsibility—I'm going to join this crusade, and I'm not going to leave until it's finished. Until all the darkness has been destroyed.

Now I have a quest.

And I'm going to see it through to the very end.

--End of Chapter 9

Thank you for reading! Again, sorry for the wait—I'll upload ASAP!


	10. Chapter 10

Wooo! Chapter 10 at last! …Thanks everyone for your wonderful support! …And I just want to say a proper "thank you" to all those of you who've posted reviews for my story! So thanks all of you, so very much! Please know that I read each one, and doing so is the highlight of my day. They're such a pleasure! ^_^

Chapter 10

"Shouldn't we be getting back?" the voice, muffled from within the folds of a knapsack I wear slung around my shoulders, has to speak rather loudly to be heard over the jumbled conversations filling the crowded street where I stand.

People are everywhere, all around me, shouting and laughing and joking with one another as they walk from stall to stall of the many venders which line the narrow streetway.

The noise is overwhelming, and the dry heat makes it all the more uncomfortable. Beneath the loose robe I wear, which covers me all the way down to my ankles, I'm drenched in perspiration. All I can think of is a nice, cold shower and a glass of iced lemonade…

"Just a little bit longer," I reply to the voice, which belongs to the rabbit. "It feels so much better here in the shade."

"They'll be waiting for us, you know. Donald won't like that."

I ignore this statement, knowing full-well that it's true. When we arrived here earlier this morning, Sora had suggested that we all split up to search for any sign of the King. We'd agreed to meet up in front of a large restaurant selling specialty food and drink around noon. Looking up at the sky, I know it has to be getting close to the appointed time. But it's so hot, and I've been looking for hours with nothing to show for it. _I just need a sec… to cool down… here in the shadows…_

I lean against the clay wall of a building, behind a man selling fresh fruit. I close my eyes and sigh.

Agrabah. A sparkling city of marble, gold, and beauty beyond what I could ever have imagined. The buildings are tall, shapely, and pale against the red sand of this desert valley.

But even in this city, I've seen poverty. The poor are housed off into a separate section, forced to live in their scarcity out of sight from the rest of the world. A few streets back, I caught glimpse of a pair of scraggly children, sneaking their way among the vender stalls, stealing bits of rations that had fallen, discarded, to the ground.

I rub my eyes, feeling fatigued and dehydrated. How those children must have felt… so much thirstier and wearier then myself. Between my fingers, I glimpse sight of them again. They are headed my way, slinking along the wall with hallow cheeks and skinny limbs and tattered clothes.

Donald gave me a little money before we all went separate ways, in case of an emergency. I decide this is close enough. Walking over to the produce man in front of me, I buy a couple of exotic-looking fruits—the likes of which I've never, _ever_ seen before in my life—and go over to where the children are crouching, behind a crate of garbage.

"Hey," I say as I draw near. They jump and look up at me with wide, skittish eyes. It's hard to tell their age, or even their genders. But I can guess that perhaps they're brother and sister, since one looks slightly more feminine, and their faces hold such a resemblance to each other. "You guys look hungry," I say, squatting down to make myself less threatening. Though I hardly doubt I'm a very threatening-looking person to begin with…

They don't reply, but their eyes watch me, eager and wary for whatever it is I'm going to say next. Now that I've come this far, I'm not really sure what to say. I can feel myself going red. Quickly I thrust out the food for them to take.

"Here," I say. "I-I don't need these. You can have them."

After a moment's hesitation, they reach out and accept my offering, the brother taking some and handing it first to his sister, then keeping the same amount for himself. They don't say anything, but I don't need thanks.

I didn't do this for thanks.

I did it to help.

As quick as I can, I turn and merge into the crowded streetway.

"Good job," the rabbit says softly. I can just barely hear it. "Good for you."

"It… was nothing," I say, reddening all the more. But I know that's not true. It _was_ something.

To those kids, it was really something.

And that's what makes it a million times worth it.

A shout from up ahead makes me give a startled jerk, and I realize that people are making way, scrambling to the sides of the street, allowing something—or someone—to pass by. I'm jostled by the horde and dragged over to the right, accompanied by the troubled squeaks of the rabbit from within my knapsack.

"What's going on?" it asks, frightened.

"I…I don't know," I reply in a low voice, trying not to draw attention to myself. Then I see it—an enormous sedan, carried on the shoulders of six well-muscled men, making its way through the narrow passage of venders and loud, bubbling people.

"Oh… it's just a—" I'm about to reassure the rabbit, when through the sedan's heavily drawn curtains flies an enormous bright red bird. Its eyes, yellow and hard, glare at the activity below with a distrustful air of malevolence. The bright blue feathers at the tips of its wings blur as the bird moves higher into the sky, soaring above the city, moving rapidly from sight.

In the smothering heat of the city, I shiver.

As the sedan passes on its way and the people surrounding me once again go about their business, I find I cannot move.

That bird can only mean one thing.

And as I realize this, my blood goes cold.

--End chapter 10

Thanks for reading! I'll upload when I can!


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